


no tools, just your mind.

by cl3rks



Series: dark paradise. [1]
Category: Deadpool (2016), Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Mention of torture, Swearing, ajax has a thing for you, chamber - Freeform, gender specific, have fun, he's such an asshole, sorry - Freeform, your power is legit unlimited how cool is that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl3rks/pseuds/cl3rks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shitholes suck, especially this shithole experiment warehouse thing. This one REALLY sucks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no tools, just your mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Ajax is a fucking PRICK. But he's a handsome prick.

You couldn't breathe – fuck, it was so difficult – you were gasping for air. 

Ajax – that dish soap named motherfucker – put you in there to make sure you didn't get out like you did last time. He didn't know how you did it, you wouldn't tell him. It was like you had Houdini-ed your wrists from the cuffs binding them.

He could see the charred leather around your wrists, but he knew fire conjuring or manipulation wasn't your mutation. 

You remembered it easily. It only happened a few days ago, after all.

You had just used your hands to take the restraints off your neck, chest, stomach, legs and ankles once you'd melted then from your wrists. Your already dirty socks hit the wet and grimy ground in a matter of seconds, and you ran.

You ran quickly and as far as you could. 

Angel caught you and dragged you to Ajax's "office" by the collar of your off-white and grayish blue checkered gown. You kicked your legs out and screamed and clawed at her hands, but she still dragged you. You cried out as she flung you forward, your body sliding and slamming into Ajax's desk. 

You let out a pitiful whimper, your bones feeling weak from your torture and they felt brittle after being slid. 

"Be a little more gentle with her, yes?"

Angel didn't reply. She just stood in the doorway; arms crossed with her body taking up the entire frame. 

“You can go.” Ajax urged, nodding his head towards the door. Angel did as told and without asking, closed the door behind herself. “Now, what's your mutation?”

He spent a good hour pacing around you, interrogating you from your place on the floor. That was, until, he yanked you upwards by your throat and stared into your eyes.

“If you won't tell me, then the chamber will.”

Your eyes got wide and your mouth opened so you could retaliate, but you closed it. Further remarks would only mean further torture, and you were already going to another shithole. 

So, that brought you to where you are now. Choking and unable to breathe because you wouldn't tell that British fucker what your mutation was. In all honesty, it seemed kind of useless – depending on your circumstances. You figured if you could focus less on suffocating and more on your mutation, you could get out.

You tried.

You breathed as deeply as you could which was shallow enough, like the 4ft part of a pool. You wanted to go deep, though. You mustered up what you could, thinking of air and clouds and wind and anything that could generate it – and it felt as though a healthy, clean supply of oxygen filled your lungs.

You gasped, welcoming the feeling with open arms. You looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly to adjust as your body felt like it was sinking but floating at the same time. You felt lightheaded and grounded and with one quick motion, or thought, perhaps, your body slipped from the cuffs around it and you slumped forward against the upright container. 

Your entire body pressed against the glass and you could see your breath clouding hotly over the stainless material. 

“Ajax!” You shouted, reaching a weak fist up to beat against the glass. Your fist, although weaker in comparison to the resistance and thickness of the heavy material, a crack formed. As you beat harder against it, the crack got bigger. “Ajax! You dish soap motherfucker!” 

“He's out.” Angel said, coming towards you. “Shut up – how the fuck did you get out?” 

“Bullshit!” You snapped, feeling the pressure inside the chamber slowly leak out, allowing you to talk more clearly. “I know he's here!”

“How the hell are you...” Angel muttered, watching as the pressure gauge went back up, going from twenty to eighty in a short amount of time. “How-”

“Ajax!” You howled again, screaming and tearing at the glass. Something was pressed and the door hissed open, causing you to fall out and hit the ground. Even with the restored oxygen in your body, you coughed and coughed and hell, you coughed some more. “Get the fuck in here!” 

“Ready to tell me your mutation?”

“I don't know!” You screamed, trying to scramble to your feet. “I don't know what it is, but fuck – I can use it!” 

Ajax stepped through the doorway, watching you. His arms were clasped behind his back and his condescending smirk was pissing you off. You stood, shoulders swaying as you pushed your arms out in front of you to steady yourself. Your head was swimming and you staggered slightly, attempting to stay standing. 

“I think-” You began, swaying more so now than before. “Nightmares? Dreams?”

“Angel, go.” Ajax ordered. Angel left without a second thought and Ajax watched you intently, speaking smoothly. “You sent me something after Angel brought you to my office.”

“I didn't send you shit.”

“You did, actually. It started out as a gorgeous, vividly colored dream... then the world around it caved in, bleeding black at the edges. Shadows climbing up the walls, scratching open palmed at all the color and brightness til it bled gray and turned murky.”

You listened, watching him as you staggered more. You leaned against the chamber for support. 

“You sent me a nightmare shortly following.”

“Bite me.”

“Mm, I'd rather not. I feel as though you'd bite back, and much harder.”

“You feel? Didn't know you could.” You bit back with a laugh, teeth grinding down slightly as your head screamed. “Now, fuck off. Quit bullshitting me.”

“You can conjure and control dreams and nightmares.”

“Maybe because I'm in one!” You shouted, staring at him before coughing again – your throat sore. “Maybe because I'm in one...” You repeated quietly, your gaze dropping to the ground. 

You could barely fight him as he stepped forward, picking you up to throw you over his shoulder as he walked you to a backroom – someplace you knew his experiments didn't come back from.

Your eyesight was clouded now, splotchy and unfocused as you swayed, bouncing slightly as he carried you. You shook your head, feeling the heavy weight tugging on your shoulders. It wasn't long til a door was pushed open and you were walked behind another few doors, your body being laid down flat on a cold steel table. 

You weren't even strapped down and Ajax stood over you, lurching, almost. He used his index finger to tap the middle of your forehead.

“You're gonna use that pretty little head of yours and figure out your mutation, more than I have. So, do me a favor, sweetheart, and get to it. I'll be waiting.”

“No tools?” You whispered, your voice croak-like as you felt weaker than before. You had gained control, you didn't understand... you couldn't process it – 

“No tools.” He replied, tapping his finger against your forehead again. “Just your mind. Don't strain yourself – your body's too pretty for deterioration.”

You heard his voice from where had had retreated to.

“You can create fire because it's a nightmare, or even a dream to some people. It is something to be feared and hated and enjoyed and celebrated."

"What else can I create?"

"That's for you to discover, sweetheart."


End file.
